


Help (Mirrored)

by AliceinHyruleBastion



Series: King(s) of Hearts [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, and very gay, lots of Ryuuji appreciation, missing moment, shorter than the other one but much softer, soft, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceinHyruleBastion/pseuds/AliceinHyruleBastion
Summary: The same moment in time, the same two fragile heartbeats, just through the other's eyes.(Help as seen through the eyes of Akira, and how beauty can be found even in the darkest of hours.)





	Help (Mirrored)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! I'm back with the sister fic for Help!  
> I'm so happy you guys enjoyed the other one, so I'm happy to upload this!  
> (fun fact: I actually wrote this first before going back and writing the main story whoops)  
> This is a small thing from Akira's POV, to ease any confusion.  
> Song is The Rope, also by Hurts!
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy, and comments/critiques are always appreciated! :D

****_"Until your heartbeat hurts no more_

_Until you feel no pain at all_

_Don't let go ‘til I reach for you_

_They say the best way out is through…”_   


In the light of the evening up in the dusty attic of Leblanc, Akira Kurusu was frozen.   
Despite the heat of the summer air, he could do nothing but silently gape at the sight in front of him, his breath turning to ice in his chest.   
  
In front of him, on the brink of a teary-eyed smile, was Ryuuji, a laugh half-spilling over his lips torn raw from grief. Despite the red blotchiness of his skin, the tears still drying on his cheeks, and his hair a mess of upset fingers and frustration, the sun illuminated each and every feature of his face and brought it to light, highlighting the depth of the _beauty_ under the pain.   
  
Sun danced over cheekbones hiding beneath tanned skin, catching on pale freckles and illuminating them like copper specks that danced faintly over the bridge of his nose. His bleached hair was spun white-gold in the light, the glass of the half-opened window warping it into a dusty halo of floating motes.   
  
But what caught Akira's eye the most, what made his breath _hitch_ were Ryuuji's eyes; the light struck them just _right_ : the depths a bottomless amber with streaks of other deeper colors hidden in its surface that Akira had never noticed before: he saw faint swirls of green-gold just around his pupils stark against the different shades of brown, brilliant and _stunning._ Even his tears, which had cut Akira to the core no more than a few minutes earlier, had turned to crystal in the sun.  
  
Akira could think of a million words to describe what the sun did to those brown eyes of his, but none could hold the true gravity of colors he saw there; they were multi-layered, multi-faceted, hiding a shrill and cold pain amidst the loud warmths.   
  
_Beautiful._ _  
_  
"What're you staring at?" Ryuuji croaked, voice still raw, hand lifting to half-rub his eyes. "You went all...quiet."   
  
Akira snapped back into motion, breath rushing out of him before he smiled softly. "Your eyes," he started, tapping under one of his own, "they look rather beautiful in the sunlight."   
  
Ryuuji spluttered, said eyes widening as red crawled up his ears and burned across his cheeks. "You- you can't just _say something_ like that to a guy!"   
  
Akira cocked his head faux-innocently. "But I just did," he answered, voice a bit too mischievous to be entirely oblivious.   
  
"But- you-" Ryuuji waved his hands aimlessly, his blush dipping down beneath the collar of his shirt.   
  
"Hm?"   
  
Ryuuji's hands eventually settled over his face, eyes nervously settling on a corner behind Akira as he mumbled something incoherent.   
  
Akira leaned forward on his stool. "What was that?"  
  
Another unintelligible mumble, the shifting of hands as they drifted higher up his face.  
  
Akira gave him a pointed look, on the desperate brink of bursting in laughter, the feeling bubbling up just beneath his sternum.   
  
_"I said that you also looked really pretty,"_ Ryuuji blurted, eventually covering the entirety of his face as he drew his knees up.   
  
For the second time that afternoon, Akira's mind turned to ice. "What?"   
  
Ryuuji flapped a hand vaguely at Akira. "With your hair and- it just looks super shiny and soft in the sun and shit, and you kinda glow and your eyes are so _bright_ and-" Ryuuji slapped his hand back over his face and buried his face into his knees, the tips of his ears getting impossibly redder.   
  
_Me? But..._ Akira shook away the thought before sitting down next to Ryuuji, bumping his shoulder into his. "Hey."  
  
Ryuuji grunted in response, and Akira almost laughed.  
  
"You're cute when you blush too," Akira said, losing his self-control and laughing when Ryuuji groaned and buried his face further into his knees.   
  
"You can't just _say shit_ like that!" Ryuuji whined again as he barely turned his head to side to face Akira, no venom in his words.  
  
"I can, and I will," Akira said bluntly, and Ryuuji groaned again.   
  
"Why are you like this..." he bemoaned, eyes slipping shut.  
  
Akira just gently nudged him again. "Come on, let's get you home; it's getting late," he said softly.   
  
"Don't wanna."   
  
Akira paused at that, a note of worry singing in the back of his mind. "What about your mother?" He asked.  
  
"I left a note, told her I was goin' to Leblanc," Ryuuji explained, "she trusts you, so she won't mind."   
  
Akira hummed in understanding. "You sure?"   
  
Ryuuji nodded.   
  
"Alright then, we should get you cleaned up and into some comfier clothes," Akira said suddenly, effortlessly tugging Ryuuji up to his feet with a startled yelp.   
  
"Damn, I forget you're stronger than you look," Ryuuji said breathlessly, sheepishly scrubbing the back of his neck until pausing as he realized his wrist was still in Akira's grip.   
  
Akira only smiled and slid his hand into Ryuuji's before tugging him downstairs to get fresh laundry from the machines across the street and another blanket, all hand-in-hand with sleepy, bashful smiles and fingers intertwined in the setting sunlight.   
  
_I was able to make him smile again._   
  
With that thought, Akira vowed to make sure it'd never dissolve like that again, make sure he'd never have to watch him break like that again, and keep that warmth in those breathtaking eyes of his alight.

 

_“When you're climbing, crying,_

_Reaching for the open sky_

_I'll find you_

_And pull you out alive.”_

 

 


End file.
